


Polaroids

by scepterofstardust



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff so sweet you'll get cavities, Gen, SaruMi - Freeform, Sarumi Week 2017, but here we are, this was awkward bc i haven't written anything happy for them in a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 00:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11391846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepterofstardust/pseuds/scepterofstardust
Summary: A few memories that Saruhiko has in a box under his bed, to remind him of why he survives.





	Polaroids

 

The first time it happened, it was during class. Saruhiko was sitting in his chair, miserably trying to focus on the teacher. He'd caught a cold over the weekend and he was bleary eyed, skin burning hot. He'd come to school anyways because it was better than staying home, but he knew Misaki would be scolding him later. That was fine.

 

Saruhiko jumped when he felt a finger on his back, alert for a moment of confusion before he turned his head and saw it was Misaki. He relaxed but scrunched up his nose in question. Misaki shook his head and motioned for him to face forward. Once Saruhiko was looking up at the board again, Misaki began tracing shapes on his back with a finger. It felt nice, and Saruhiko was so ill that it took him longer than it should have to realize he was making letters. Misaki was spelling something out, and he had to concentrate to figure out what it was.

 

A R E Y O U S I C K ?

 

Saruhiko sighed and nodded his head.

 

H O W B A D ?

 

He pressed his lips together, trying to figure out how to answer without making his friend berate him. Misaki wordlessly held out his hand, and Saruhiko reached down to trace the letters. The teacher continued to drone on, oblivious.

 

B A D

 

He heard Misaki's groan of disapproval behind him.

 

W H Y D I D Y O U C O M E ?

 

Saruhiko looked down at his desk and swallowed nervously.

 

H A D T O

 

B U L L S H I T, was Misaki's response a beat later. Saruhiko rolled his eyes.

 

S T O P

 

N O

 

Saruhiko fought the urge to turn around and smack his friend on the shoulder.

 

C O M E O V E R 

 

W H Y ?

 

D I N N E R A N D M E D I C I N E

 

The dark haired boy gave in and smiled the tiniest bit.

 

O K

 

The creak of the chair told him that Misaki had sat back again, satisfied. Saruhiko glanced at the clock tiredly and waited for the bell to ring.

 

It became a habit of theirs, tracing words on skin. Sometimes it was because they weren't supposed to speak, sometimes it was because others weren't supposed to hear. Sometimes it was a matter of urgency, like when they were in a cafe and Saruhiko was being stared at, was overwhelmed by all the people, was too sick and felt like he would pass out. Sometimes it was a quiet thing in the night, Misaki clumsily asking him things while half asleep. It was a warm memory for Saruhiko, a feeling of closeness he'd never had with anybody else.

 

There remains a photo of them, tucked away in a box in his dorm, where both he and Misaki are sitting on the floor against the wall. Their hands are beside each other, Saruhiko's finger still touching his friend's palm. Misaki is laughing at whatever he just spelled out. Saruhiko is smiling, barely, and his eyes are fond.

 

* * *

 

One of the things they did most when Saruhiko came over was play video games. It was always a competitive endeavor, and as many times as Saruhiko won with his logic and strategy, Misaki won with his pure determination. It always made him laugh to see his friend cursing at the screen and getting all worked up. He teased him a lot, just to see how mad he'd get. Misaki always forgave him anyways, as soon as he won. He'd grin at Saruhiko and poke his chest until he gave in and congratulated him. When they were younger, Misaki's mother would make them snacks afterwards. Sometimes he slept over and they'd roll out of bed in pajamas and go right back to the game without missing a beat.

 

There remains a photo of them that Misaki's mother took, tucked away in a box in his dorm, where Misaki is in the middle of tackling him out of his seat. Saruhiko's torso is hanging off the back of the couch, and he's laughing with his eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep his friend at bay with skinny arms. Misaki is grinning, and his eyes are fond.

 

* * *

 

If they weren't taking the rail or the bus, they rode their bikes everywhere around town. Often, they went to cafes or parks in the afternoons. Sometimes, they rode just to pretend they were going somewhere, to get away. Saruhiko remembered the time that he had called Misaki in the middle of the night after dreams had kept him up. Misaki, because he was always too good to him, agreed to ride to the new ice cream place across town together. It was a long journey, but neither of them really cared. When they met at Misaki's house and pedaled off, light was just beginning to creep into the sky. They traveled mostly in silence, Misaki rubbing sleep from his eyes. The city was buzzing quietly, the work rush just starting. By the time they arrived, the sunrise was at full strength, blues and oranges and pinks smeared above their heads. They went inside to order and then sat on the curb to eat their ice cream. The parking lot was empty save a few cars. Misaki was clearly trying to cheer him up, Saruhiko realized quickly. He didn't mind, though. It usually worked, when it was him. They sat there for a couple hours, talking and joking around, food long gone. Misaki had brought his backpack, and they played a few handheld games. He also had his camera, and he took pictures of the sky. Soon after, he was assaulting Saruhiko by taking funny, blurred shots of him and laughing so hard that he almost dropped it, lens down, on the sidewalk. Despite himself, Saruhiko found the mood contagious and soon he was chuckling watching his friend. Eventually, he wrestled the camera from him and started taking pictures of Misaki while trying to push him over. After messing around for awhile longer, they went back to Misaki's house and watched a movie. Saruhiko fell asleep again, head resting on his friend's shoulder. A few days later, all the photos from that morning were printed.

 

There remains a photo of them, tucked away in a box in his dorm, smiling like there are no worries in their small world, that Misaki took when he wasn't looking. The approaching sunlight makes them look golden and ageless.

 

Most important to Saruhiko, though, is a photo of Misaki he snapped that day. Misaki is looking right at him, grinning so wide, like he has no one he would rather be with. Pieces of his hair are sticking up and tickling his nose. He has ice cream dotted on his cheek.

 

It convinces Saruhiko that those times were real, that they really were that happy. It reminds him that he would do anything for Misaki Yata, no matter how much might lay between them. On the days that he needs it most.

 

So sometimes, before he goes to sleep, he takes that box out. He holds them up and stares at them so he won't ever forget, and then he packs them away again. He climbs back into bed, and he closes his eyes to the memories of two boys, still standing against the awful chaos of the world, never alone because they'll always have each other.

 

He wakes in the morning, the taste of ice cream on his tongue and their laughter echoing in his ears.

 

And he keeps going.

**Author's Note:**

> I love childhood Sarumi so much <3


End file.
